


alone together

by mallowbug



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: At A House Party, Blow Jobs, Come Eating, Established Relationship, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-02
Updated: 2019-06-02
Packaged: 2020-04-06 16:18:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19066192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mallowbug/pseuds/mallowbug
Summary: The empty bedroom is a welcome change, though, save for what he'll consider a glaring problem—it isn’t theirs.





	alone together

**Author's Note:**

> i followed someone on twitter who ships this and i was inspired by their art, so! i gave it.. an attempt...
> 
> hopefully you enjoy, and thank you all for the support on everything i've done so far!

_Click._

A bedroom door closes and locks, separating its quiet interior from the party going on on the other side. The sound of music and voices is now more of a distant thrum, like a heartbeat in their ears.

Not that Gonta needs the metaphor. His heartbeat is already enough, telling of someone who doesn’t frequent these sorts of events. The empty bedroom is a welcome change, though, save for what he'll consider a glaring problem—it isn’t _theirs._

 **“Sorry, I didn’t think it’d get like that,”** Rantarou speaks up while Gonta is glancing around the room, just making sure that there isn’t anyone else in here. He doesn’t want to intrude on anyone, is all...

 **“It was nice at first,”** he offers, his voice soft and distracted. He sounds as though he feels bad for getting overwhelmed.

 **“Yeah?”** Rantarou tosses him a smile. **“That’s good to hear. Still not your type of thing, though, huh?”**

It’s a miracle he got Gonta to come at all, but he wanted to give it a try; see if he could get the big guy to come out of his shell a little more. He didn’t and still doesn’t want to push anything, however, so as soon as things started getting out of hand—people shedding their sobriety, turning up the noise, getting overly comfortable with one another as the night went on… he was willing to get them out of it. It’s nothing he can’t personally handle, but he feels responsible as the one who’d brought Gonta along.

There's no answer this time.

Gonta doesn’t mean to ignore him, but it’s hard to cleanse his thoughts of everything he’d seen out there (but was trying not to see). Everyone was so friendly and conversational a while ago, but now— a few people were getting intimate, some dancing so very close to one another and others kissing without shame where others could see them. It was stifling, and impulsive thoughts of doing those things with Rantarou were no help.

Now, Rantarou couldn't tell if Gonta was thinking anything like _that_ , but he does know him well enough to see that things were getting out of his comfort zone. It’s as though he lives in a bubble; an innocent and endearing thing that Rantarou tries his best to keep in tact.

Gonta’s brought his hands up to his head in a futile attempt to clear it, looking dumbfounded when he realizes Rantarou’s been staring at him. **“Huh? Did you say something?”**

As amused as he is mildly concerned, Rantarou lets the miscommunication slide and reaches to coax Gonta’s hands away from his head. And, using the hold he now has on his wrists, he gently and invitingly pulls him toward the bed. ****“Come on. We’ll just chill in here for a bit, yeah? Maybe things’ll calm down out there.”****

He lets go of Gonta’s wrists once he’s sure the other is following along, albeit at more of a hesitant pace.

 **“This is someone else’s bedroom,”** Gonta finally states his concerns, as well as the obvious.

 **“At a party like this? Any room is fair game,”** Rantarou reassures him with a shrug, waiting for the other to sit down first. **“Don’t worry.”**

Gonta takes the hint and seats himself on the side of the bed, his hands resting on his lap out of habitual politeness.

Rantarou only proceeds to move them out of the way and make himself a fit replacement. He settles into Gonta’s lap like it’s where belongs, straddling him with his arms hooked loosely around his neck and a casual smile on his face. **“Plus, no one was really paying any attention to us.”**

That’s due to Gonta’s introversion and gradual recession from interacting with anyone but his boyfriend, but Rantarou won’t say that. Can’t blame him for not being good with bigger groups of people.

 **“Don’t worry,”** he says again and feels Gonta relax a little more.

 **“Y...yeah, you’re right… Everyone was paying attention to each other instead,”** Gonta speaks to himself as much as to Rantarou, trying to let himself ease up.

**“And you know what that means?”**

**“What?”**

Gonta’s curiosity is genuine, met with Rantarou leaning closer toward him. **“It means** **_we_ ** **can give each other attention for as long as we’d like. ... Or, haha, at least until they kick us out of here.”**

...The smoothness he’s going for here isn’t working out so well.

Not that it matters, really—Gonta’s easily swayed by anything Rantarou says, especially when it’s done with that smile of his; the contentedness of his expression and the coolness of his voice…

 **“But with the way things are going, that shouldn’t be soon,”** Rantarou finishes up, then deciding he’d prefer to stop talking altogether—for now.

 **“...Gonta likes paying attention to you,** ” Gonta comments, innocent despite what'd been in his mind before.

 **“Mm? How nice.”** Rantarou’s head dips down as he speaks, loosening his arms enough to give his head some room. His lips brush the side of Gonta’s neck, parting to chuckle when he feels the man tense up—and then relax again. **“I bet I like giving you attention even more, though,”** he jokes, knowingly letting the breath of his words brush against skin.

Already it’s enough to make Gonta’s face turn rosy. It’s the sort of intimate attention he’d _(wanted)_ needed to brace himself for, but it’s warm and it’s nice and he’s always liked his neck being touched. **“I didn’t know that,”** he responds honestly, at a point where he doesn’t really know what to say. 

That’s exactly what Rantarou would’ve expected, but it’s alright.

Gonta’s hands come to rest on either of Rantarou’s hips for lack of knowing where else to put them, settled for only a moment before he feels the smaller male’s body start to move.

Rantarou slips down, out of Gonta’s loose-enough hold and off his lap completely. It takes a little bit of encouragement to get where he _really_ wants to be: on the floor with the Gonta’s knees spread apart for him. 

The gentle giant is docile as ever, even if he doesn’t yet understand what Rantarou’s doing down there. He’s not one to keep that to himself, either, though the curious look on his face could propose the question on its own. **“What are you doing?”**

 **“More than what we saw out there.”** There’s a sly tweak to Rantarou’s smile, yet his voice remains so casual. **“You saw some of that, didn’t you? Hard not to, I guess.”**

It’s true, he did see it, and he’s certainly not going to lie about it, but it still embarrasses Gonta to know he’s been ‘caught’. **“G-Gonta wasn’t** **_watching_ ** **them…”**

It’s no surprise to Rantarou that Gonta would get flustered over some clothed kissing and grinding between strangers, but he does love to see him like this.

 **“I bet some of them didn’t even know each other,”** Rantarou continues, making conversation for no reason at all. His fingers work deftly on getting Gonta’s slacks undone. **“Not like you and I do, anyway. Is that surprising to you?”**

What’s surprising, if anything, is that Rantarou is even capable of casual conversation while he’s doing… _that_ . There’s bewilderment in Gonta's expression and frankly neither of them can say for sure whether it’s at Rantarou’s posed question or at what his hands are doing. **“Um… Yes, I think so. Gonta could never do things like that with strangers.”**

 **“What about with me?”** Rantarou asks; a redundant question to which he knows the answer, but he’d just like to hear Gonta say it anyway.

 **“That’d be… better.”** Gonta sounds more distracted now that he’s caught on to what’s happening, observing with nervous anticipation while his lover’s hand dips beneath his undergarments. **“Just not in front of everyone…”**

 **“I think I’d like that better too,”** Rantarou says with a hum, heightening how glad they both are to be alone in here.

Gonta’s breath hitches as he feels a hand wrap around his length, but he’s a little too shy to watch as Rantarou pulls it free from beneath his loincloth so he looks away—toward the door. **“Ah, wait** —” he then blurts, catching the other by surprise.

He can’t help but peek down, seeing Rantarou perk up with worry. His eyes are so full and pretty, even then.

 **“...Did you lock it?”** Gonta follows up, referring to the door.

Oh. Rantarou relaxes with a chuckle, his worries gone as soon as they’d come. **“Yes, babe, I locked it. Now… Just relax for me, alright? Don’t think about anything.”**

 _Don’t think about anything…_ Gonta swallows but readily obeys those words, feeling the tension release from his shoulders. He brings his knuckles up to his lips in what is both a show of shyness and a preemptive means of hushing himself.

Rantarou starts to stroke the length he’s holding; feels it gradually harden against his hand. It takes so very little to get Gonta eager, and he knows this. It takes little to send him over the edge, too, but he’ll still give it what he’s got.

The hand Gonta’s holding to his mouth now presses harder, his eyes falling shut. The effort to muffle himself is pointless, though, when the noise is coming from his throat; the whines he’s already making are (so far) modest, yet so clear to Rantarou’s ears.

It’s sufficient encouragement for Rantarou to go on, lolling out his tongue to drag it from base to tip—nice and slow. There’s a hint of pink across his cheeks from everything so far, although it’s mild in comparison to the bigger boy’s reactions.

The jump from hand to tongue feels like legions and Gonta finds himself unable to sit still, tearing his hand away from his mouth to drop it on the bed instead. His fingers curl against the blankets, not at all subtle—much like the way he turns his face more toward his shoulder and watches everything from the corner of his eye. The way Rantarou is looking up at him so coolly makes him want to hide, though he is ultimately enjoying it.

Rantarou soon breaks eye contact, anyway, focusing more on what he’s doing—the size he’s dealing with is a bit of a trial, though no more than he is committed to taking it. His eyes close briefly and he opens his mouth a little wider, bringing inch after inch—only a few, for now—of Gonta into his mouth. His tongue holds a steady pressure against the underside as he goes, stopping only once he feels it’s enough.

This alone has Gonta arching his back, utterly tomato-faced. It feels incredible and he’s already wanting more, not even needing to ask before Rantarou closes his lips (gently, being careful of his teeth) around his dick and slides off it with an audible _pop._

Then, again, he peers up to check on the fruit of his work.

Gonta has a hand over his mouth again, the other one rather tightly holding onto the bed's blankets. It seems his legs have spread a little further since they began, too.

On his end, he’s feeling a weird sort of impatience, albeit one that he’s too polite to act on. He whines his lover’s name instead, in case that’ll suffice—a subtly needy **“Rantarou-kun…”** that’s music to Rantarou’s ears.

So Rantarou keeps going, holding the base while his mouth works the rest of it. He maintains a steady pace, quicker than it is slower, his eyebrows creased with a certain concentration as he tries feeding more into his mouth each time he sinks down.

As instructed, Gonta’s more or less forgotten about the party going on outside the room; all that exists here is himself and Rantarou and the noises they’re making. His moans make it sound like he’s panting and he’s reached a point of nearly squirming, still trying to decide with a foggy mind what he should do with his hands. Touching Rantarou’s head feels like a last resort and while he’s not one to _completely_ lose his temperance to pleasure, it calls for less constraint than he might have in any other situation.

 **“I** — **”** Gonta manages to whine an incomplete thought, trying to roll his hips. Rantarou only counters the sudden force by moving his head back in time to save himself from gagging, feeling his cheeks heat up.

But it’s not enough. The warmth and wetness of his lover’s mouth is wonderful and Gonta needs just a little more, as close as he already is to finishing. He bites down hard on his bottom lip and waits until Rantarou’s short pause to catch his breath is over, then rests a hand down on his head. It’s soon joined by his other hand, their combined weight enough to force Rantarou’s head down just a tiny bit.

That’s manageable, Rantarou thinks, until he feels Gonta’s fingers actually grip his hair.

 **“S-sorry…”** Gonta apologizes for what initially seems like no reason, before using that grip he has on light green hair to force Rantarou’s head down. He can feel his mouth _all_ around him now, making him shudder and gasp as he soaks the feeling in. **“I-I’m sorry, ah~h… It feels so good, Rantarou-kun…”**

On instinct, Rantarou’s hands grasp Gonta’s thighs to hold onto and steady himself against. There are tears in the corners of his eyes and he’s breathing quite audibly through his nose, but he doesn’t fight back. He would’ve tried to get to this point, anyway—taking all of Gonta into his mouth, as if to challenge himself—but he just didn’t expect it to be so soon. It’s overwhelming and invasive but if it makes the other feel good, then he’s trying not to mind.

Gonta’s hips are bucking with forced restraint and he’s just about panting each breath he takes, moving Rantarou’s head outward and back down again as many times as he needs (which isn’t many at all) before he comes.

It’s only then that Rantarou is given a break, pulled off of Gonta's dick completely with a gasp. He hardly has a moment to recover, his face a small mess of drool and escaped tears, before he’s using his hand to help finish Gonta off.

The amount of come that comes out is as fascinating as it is hot, though he can’t help feeling grateful it wasn’t all shot down his throat just then. Rantarou’s notably pink in the face now, but he still goes the extra mile to stick his tongue out and catch what he can; salvaging a worse mess in advance by swallowing it all down.

And as Gonta goes limp in his hand, Rantarou is reminded to let it go. For now he’ll just use his sleeve to wipe his mouth, finally rising from his knelt position to sit on the bed beside the other.

The entomologist is trembling in the aftermath, his head drooped enough for his hair to spill over his shoulders and shield his face.

That's something Rantarou would like to fix, of course, so he cups Gonta's cheek and turns his face to see him. He can practically feel the warmth of his blush radiating through the skin.

 **"Hey... How was that?"** The adventurer has returned to his air of cool and collectedness, as if he hadn't been flustered by any of that.

Pushing through his blissed-out state of mind, Gonta finds it in him to respond with worry before anything else. " **D...Did Gonta hurt your mouth? Are you okay?"**

It wasn't the most pleasant feeling for his throat, but he doesn't think he's hurt and he isn't going to make Gonta worry any more than he needs to. The concern in itself is endearing, so Rantarou puts on a smile and shakes his head.  **"I'm fine."**

 **"Okay... Um, it was good,"** the entomologist belatedly responds, awkwardly short for words.

 **"That's good to hear."** Rantarou can't help feeling amused by what sounds like an understatement to Gonta's earlier pleasure, but the shyness is to be expected now that they're out of the moment. He moves to wrap his arms around Gonta's shoulders and lean into him, stopped short by what the boy has to say next.

**"What about you? Can Gonta help you now...?"**

Ah, well... It seems he won't be getting away without a returned favor. The truth to his earlier words—that he likes giving Gonta attention more than he likes receiving it himself—is certainly revealing itself now. 

 **"...You don't have to,"** he says, trying to be polite and vague about what he wants.

As it turns out, his humbleness is quite the folly. Suggesting that Gonta can't or shouldn't help is never the good way to go—all it does is convince the gentleman that he  _has to_.

Gonta's eyebrows furrow and Rantarou can see by the look of determination on his face that he isn't getting out of this. It isn't... a bad thing, at the very least. He's a little curious to see what the other will do.

Not even Gonta knows what he's going to do, but that isn't about to stop him. For starters he breaks free from Rantarou's embrace and (gently) pushes him to lie down on the bed instead, adjusting himself to hover over him. He's blushing again, looking awkwardly intense, and Rantarou can definitely tell that he has no idea what he's doing. It's, once again, very endearing.

 **"Gonta will take care of you,"** he says, realizing that is determination isn't holding up to his courage. He supposes he can decide what to do on the spot, using Rantarou's earlier actions as guidance—he can just use his hands or his mouth, right? 

Rantarou says nothing, letting all of this play out. 

It isn't where he expected to be tonight — sprawled on a bed that doesn't belong to him, lending his help as needed to Gonta's efforts to pleasure him — when all he wanted was to spoil his boyfriend, but it's fine.

The extra time in here, with the two of them treating each other like they're the only two people in this house (or maybe even in the world), is something to savor.


End file.
